After
by fayechamberboobs
Summary: After, the Circle stars to fall apart. After, everything changes, and people do too.


It's weeks after Nick's death and everything is falling apart.

No one ever would have called Nick the linchpin of the Circle, but the tragedy and guilt has hit them all hard in different ways. Faye's not sure they should actually be called a _circle _anymore; they're more of a misshapen pentagon with the lines between them becoming more brittle every day.

Still, Diana tries to force their togetherness, thinking that now is the time they need each other the most. Every night she hounds them into gathering in that damn cabin. It's the only place they have but it's not _their_ place anymore. Melissa still shakes every time she steps over the threshold and Faye has to hold her hand for a while until she can stand on her own. When she first did it, quietly and without pronouncement, she saw Adam looking at her with a strange consideration.

Adam and Diana broke up in four days. Even Faye was surprised: she was sure Adam, the gallant hero, wouldn't abandon Diana now of all times. But it seems the stress of Nick's death was the fabled straw on the camel's back. And down came tumbling the King and Queen of the Circle.

He didn't run straight to Cassie. Didn't even look at her. Most days Adam sat by himself in a rickety armchair in the corner, while Cassie and Diana (suddenly the best of friends) took the loveseat and Faye sat wherever Melissa did.

Today, they end up on the couch across from the loveseat. Faye would sooner break her own arm than admit it to the group, but she'd been kept up the night previous having vivid nightmares. She wasn't there, but in her dreams she can see Nick's drowning so clearly. No, not see – she can_ feel_ it – the thrashing and gasping, all the while fighting the strength of the demon. Fighting for them: for his friends that barely looked at him most days. Sometimes, it even feels like hands are holding her down, curled around her – Nick's – leather jacket and pressing so heavy against her – his - chest. Maybe it's the circle's ties that make her see it so perfectly, or maybe it's her imagination. She curses them both.

So during their (tense and silent) meeting of "togetherness", she ends up drifting off to sleep. When she blinks awake, Faye is surprised to hear the sounds of rain all around them. The house isn't really built for inhabitation, and the wind blows across her skin, dancing with a spray of raindrops. She's cold.

Melissa is gone from her spot next to her, and when Faye sits up she spots Diana crying in the corner with Cassie comforting her. It's confusing, and also a bit annoying. Why didn't anyone wake her – or at least throw a damn sweater over her?

Faye looks around for Melissa and finds her sitting by Nick's plants. It's a heartbreaking picture: her best friend isn't crying, isn't even frowning, but staring blankly as if lost. She looks almost like a child, and Faye feels hollow for her.

No one seems to notice she's awake. Thunder crackles softly outside, the beginnings of a torrential downpour that will probably last the night. The first words on the tip of Faye's tongue are "It wasn't me" but no one's looking at her anyway.

They can do magic on their own again, although without Nick it's more like the pre-Cassie dull stuff. But even for Faye it doesn't feel like getting what she wanted, because it's tainted. Every time she uses magic, it's dirty, because she can only do it because Nick – because Nick's –

She shakes her head, clears her throat. Melissa doesn't even look up; Cassie spares her a glance but can only offer a tentative smile before returning to attending pale Diana. And Adam – Adam isn't here, Faye notices suddenly.

"Where's Adam?" She asks, loudly, demanding. Diana lets out a sob and Cassie frowns sharply. The blonde doesn't answer her, however, and she looks to Melissa.

"He left." Her best friend answers, obliging even in her grief. "Um. Stormed out, actually."

It's ironic considering the clap of lightning that follows Melissa's words. Faye frowns. He shouldn't be out in this.

She unfolds her legs slowly and stands.

"I'll get him." Faye volunteers. She's not sure exactly why, but she just doesn't want be here. The air in the room hangs heavy with sadness and negativity and it feels…broken. More broken than its physical appearance even suggests.

Melissa nods, and Faye walks over to place a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Unless –" _You need me, _she's going to finish (a bit reluctantly, but she can't just leave Melissa) but she's cut off.

"Go. I – I want to be alone, with…with his stuff."

Faye presses her lips together and leaves, grabbing her leather jacket and wrapping it tight around her as she steps out into the storm. She's completely soaked through and shivering by the time she reaches the docks, but somehow she knew she'd find Adam here.

He's hunched over by the edge of the pier, and doesn't seem to notice as she walks up behind him.

"Did you start this?" She asks.

"Can you stop it?" He answers. He sounds calmer than she expected.

"I can't stop anything." Faye says honestly. That's not her role: she is the creator of magic and chaos, she does not calm the churning waves.

He laughs, brokenly. Across the bay, the sky flashes.

"Why did you make it storm?" She questions, not teasing him about being a copycat as she might have once. Before. There is a distinct Before and After, and there will be long after the grief has dimmed.

"Seemed appropriate." Adam shrugs, and she sits down next to him quietly. She's usually impatient, but this time she just waits for him to speak again. "Why are you here?" He asks.

"Were you hoping Cassie would come for you?" It's not exactly malicious, but there's an edge to her words, like she's testing the proverbial waters.

"Don't." He doesn't turn his face to her, but she can tell he's rolling his eyes. If she only had a dollar for every time he rolled his eyes because of her…

"I'm here because I didn't want to be there." Faye tells him, honest. "And because you needed someone."

"So does Melissa."

"She needs Nick. There's nothing I can do for her." She answers in a strained voice, trying not to cry. She doesn't want to cry anymore.

"And what can you do for _me_?" Adam asks, hopeless, and his eyes finally lock on hers. He looks suddenly sixteen and alone. She's so used to his eternal maturity that it strikes her and her chest seems to hurt.

"I don't know." Faye confesses softly, but throws her arms around him. He collapses into her, heavier and quicker than she expected, and she teeters but eventually steadies them.

She's not sure how long they sit there, the rain dying out to a steady sprinkle as she holds him. It feels like Adam is tangled in her, his head against her chest and arms around her waist. He's practically cradled in her lap like a child. Faye thinks he's sobbing – or maybe shaking – she's not sure and all she can do is wait.

Faye doesn't know how to comfort. But she must be doing okay, because when he finally pulls his head from her breast and looks at her he's wearing a half-smile.

"What was that about not being able to stop a storm?" He asks, and it feels so ridiculous and everything's so overwhelming that she starts to laugh. Adam laughs too, head bowing, and when he looks up their noses almost touch.

She supposes it's inevitable. She's never been good at just being _friends _with someone, just innocent giving and not taking, and so it makes sense.

Adam kisses her and Faye lets him. It's that simple. She doesn't pause to be offended that she's probably no more than some easy rebound girl; someone Adam can move past easier than if she were sweet-faced Cassie. She doesn't think about crying Diana and how the girl probably still loves Adam. She does not spare a thought of how this is just more drama to add to their inescapable fiction of a life.

None of it matters. They are just two people kissing in the dregs of a rainstorm on the edge of a pier. He is just a sad boy with his hands in her tangled black hair, and she is just a girl trying to help somebody for once in her life.

When they part neither of them say anything, but she takes his hand and they both stand up. Faye leads him silently down the docks.

Without talking they end up at Adam's house. His dad is rarely home, and even if he his he's usually too drunk to care what his son does. Faye frowns for him; she knows it bothers Adam, deep down, but he doesn't talk about it. Just like she never says anything about how much her mom hates her.

He grabs her a big, fluffy towel from his bathroom and Faye accepts it gratefully. Adam throws his jacket over his desk chair, so she lets hers join it.

He looks at her with a soft frown, but she can't make out whether there's confusion, concern, or doubt in his dark eyes.

"You're going to catch cold." He says finally, and walks over to a drawer to pull out some clothes. He sets them on the bed without ceremony. "Put these on, you can't stay in those…" Adam is looking her over and he suddenly averts his eyes as if embarrassed. Faye looks down at herself: her dress is molded to her skin, the outline of her bra and panties quite clear. She shrugs. It's not like Adam hasn't seen underwear before.

"Thanks." She says, and reaches behind herself to unzip her dress. He looks a bit startled and Faye lets a soft smirk grace her lips. It's been awhile since she's taken pleasure in mischief, and she lets herself indulge this impulse. They both need it.

"Faye –"

"Shh, Adam. It's okay. We're friends, aren't we?" Her dress falls to the floor, a heavy heap of waterlogged cloth. She feels better already.

Adam just watches her as she toes off her flats, towels her hair. He's still standing there in dripping jeans and a tee shirt.

When she feels as dry as she's likely to get, she steps forward and offers the towel to Adam. He takes it loosely, but doesn't move. Faye smiles.

"Come on. I'm not the only who's going to catch cold – and you don't have to be shy." Her hands touch the hem of his shirt and he shivers. She doesn't think it's because he's cold. She helps him gently out of his shirt and it joins her dress on the floor.

"We should pick those up –" Adam offers, but Faye shakes her head.

"No. We shouldn't."

He sighs, but it's not discontented, and he smiles. "Faye, you're a mystery."

"Am I, really?" She shrugs and grins, hands at the clasp of his jeans.

He just shakes his head – that 'you're impossible' look in his eyes again – but his grin mirrors hers. He helps her remove his jeans and it's comfortable, easy.

"Come on," Faye says, taking Adam's hand and turning towards his bathroom. "I feel like a shower."


End file.
